


Secrets

by SugarPill



Series: Condensed Trigun [29]
Category: Trigun
Genre: Canon - Manga, Gen, Missing Scene, Moral Dilemmas, One-Sided Confessional, TriMax Vol. 1, Wolfwood-Typical Cursing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-12
Updated: 2014-12-12
Packaged: 2018-03-01 03:43:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2758280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SugarPill/pseuds/SugarPill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>But it was different with Vash, wasn’t it? Damn it all to Hell, but that spiky-headed buffoon could make Wolfwood reconsider everything he thought to be true, to be necessary, in one clear-eyed glance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Secrets

**Author's Note:**

> "It’s funny. Don’t ever tell anybody anything. If you do, you start missing everybody."  
> \- The Catcher in the Rye, J.D. Salinger

_That’s fair, isn’t it? You’re keeping stuff from me, too…_

Wolfwood kept replaying Vash’s words over and over again in his mind. He was right; he _was_ keeping secrets. Lots of secrets. Big secrets. Secrets about Knives, secrets about his mission. Secrets about himself. 

Most of Wolfwood’s life had been one big ball of regret, hidden in secrets. He was used to hiding things from people. Because if people knew too much about you, they became dangerous. Secrets were the only way to stay alive, because you can never trust anyone, truly. 

Secrets…

But it was different with Vash, wasn’t it? Damn it all to Hell, but that spiky-headed buffoon could make Wolfwood reconsider everything he thought to be true, to be necessary, in one clear-eyed glance. It was like he could see straight through to his soul. Sometimes, Wolfwood wondered if Vash could see him more clearly than he would ever see himself. 

One glance, and Wolfwood wanted to right every wrong ever committed, hell, right every one of _his_ wrongs. One glance, and he wanted to rid the world of hatred and greed, to do his best to make the world a better place. To do his goddamn best. Because he should. Because it was _the right thing to do_. To live clean, to walk a higher path… to be innocent again, like before all the regret and all the secrets…

It was goddamn unnerving, to say the least. 

As Wolfwood made his way up to Vash’s hotel room, he half-heartedly tried to quiet his disconcerting thoughts. Why did he feel the need to do this? Spill his guts and all? Was it because him and Vash were friends? Wolfwood had never really had any close friends, once he reached a certain age. But him and Vash… it was different, that was all he could figure out about it. He felt he owed him _this_ , at least, some form of thanks for a favor he couldn’t quite name. Wolfwood had never felt like he’d owed anything to anyone before, not one goddamn thing. But Vash…

Was it was because it was the right thing to do? Wolfwood had never done the ‘right’ thing before, either. He always did what was better for himself, what was necessary for survival, what was easier at the time. But never the right thing. He was a fucking mercenary, for Christ’s sake! He was paid money to make his employer’s problems disappear, often with solutions that involved bullets and blood. He was a cold-blooded killer, how could he even know what the right thing was? 

Maybe it was to make himself feel better. Part of him cynically looked for what he would gain from this, as if confessing his sins to some higher power would cleanse his soul. Although Vash was probably the closet thing Wolfwood would ever come to angels and God, he wasn’t convinced that anyone would ever forgive him of his sins… there were so many… too many to count a hundred times over on his sinning, blood-stained hands. And even if he somehow managed to be forgiven… did he even deserve such mercy? 

Wolfwood sucked in a harsh breath and blew it out in a smoke-tinged huff. So many questions… almost as many of them as secrets, no? 

Whatever the reason, Wolfwood surfaced from his thoughts and found himself standing in front of Vash’s hotel room door. Forcing down his emotions and instincts that were bubbling up like a burning bile, Wolfwood quickly rapped on Vash’s door, once, twice. Once before he could change his mind, twice for good measure. 

“Hey, Spiky!”

No answer. Wolfwood almost took this as a sign to turn his sorry butt around and scuttle back downstairs, but something kept him planted. He was in this business now, even if he didn’t know what said goddamn business was. He knocked once more before trying the knob. It gave with a turn, causing Wolfwood to gulp uncomfortably. It was now or never. He pushed the door open with a deep breath and-

“I hate to bring up our earlier conversation but… huh?” 

The room was empty. Everything was in order, with the spartan bed, the single window, the ugly-ass armchair. But no Vash. 

“He stepped out…” Wolfwood announced to no one but himself. Vash had left and hadn’t told him. He had gone to all this trouble, was ready to bare his fucking soul, and Vash had stepped out. 

“Shit.” He shut the door with more than necessary force before slowly turning back the way he came, hands shoved in his pockets, shoulders slumped; his usual defenses back in their proper place. Looking back on it, Wolfwood convinced himself that it was for the best that Vash hadn’t been in his room that day. Because if he had been… Wolfwood could only shake his head at that one. 

Figures.


End file.
